close to home
cold beer in front of me & black dog at
my feet // my wife’s on Zoom pro football’s on
the muted mega screen TV // routine
has morphed me to a chimpanzee who irons
his own shirts // the music in my earbuds
good but too damn smooth Rachmaninov //
behooves me to beware delusion not sure
where these words came from can’t weaponize
them yet // the poet that i’m reading says
she cannot write the lovely kinds of poems
her schooling trained her in // ah well the darkest
path is close to home // the what & how
& when & god yes why mean next to nothing
who am i & where do i belong
© Tom Zimmerman
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Thomas Zimmerman |
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